The Fate of The Dead
by Dhampire Hunter
Summary: Lily Evans tempted Fate to keep her son alive. The repercussions hit him hard, but that just makes living all the sweeter, Right? Sevitus, IndependantDarkStrong!Harry. Ron bashing. GoodMalfoys, MisguidedDumbledore. Undecided Abandonment.
1. Chapter 1

The Reapers, silent for decades had once again been wakened. Drawn by the desperate pleas of a young woman about to die. A Fate-Weaver sighed; the woman was to die, her son was to live. The ethereal essence of Lily Evans became corporeal before the council. She stood tall and proud before the black clad figures. The leader, the White Mercy, stepped forward.

"Lily Potter née Evans, why is your wish to live so strong the Reapers and the Weavers were summoned to this thrice damned council." Lily flinched.

"I do not want to live. I want my son to live." The council murmured. Someone stepped forward. She was a Death-Weaver.

"I shall watch over your son, as does another." Lily smiled sadly. She bowed and her essence slowly walked on, to Shadow Realm. The others looked at the lone Weaver.

"And why are you so generous? He will have to die first," stated the White Mercy.

"I know," was all she said.

**The death of Harry James Potter**

My first swimming lesson is today, I have been wanting to swim ever since Drée jumped off a cliff. Drée is crazy. She honestly is. She told me all about wizardry, Magecraft and even Runecraft. I knew I was a mixture off all three. Drée is fickle, as am I. We go through phases of darkness and they scare me. I sat in the school bus, alone, thinking. My Hogwarts letter was due in about a year and honestly I'm not even sure if I want to go. Drée probably wouldn't be allowed to accompany me. I changed into my swimming things silently. The other boys around me laughing and joking with each other. Drée suddenly appeared beside be and I flinched. She was going to watch someone die today, she looked like a muggle Grim Reaper! That's how I know she is in a bad mood. The first time she appeared to me she had these clothes on, she changed the shape of my scar too! It used to be a lightning bolt but now it looks like a Dark Mark with a scythe next to it. I like the new scar better, it scares the pants off of everyone. The scythe covers a good portion of my face but the Dark Mark is smaller, less obvious. We were told to jump in and jump I did, that's when it started going wrong. I saw Drée watching me closely and began to worry. Dudley and Piers pulled me into the deep end and held my head under. My lungs filled with water as I struggled, my self defence training doing nothing for the imminent threat of drowning. Screaming, pleading, begging, threatening, all of it going through my head at once. My thoughts overloaded with the sound, I blacked out sinking to the bottom of the pool.

My essence entered the Shadow Realm with a terrible bang and there standing before me was Drée. I watched her warily. She had told me that to become a Weaver or a Reaper properly I would have to die. She pushed me into a seat in front of a mirror and told me to watch. I did as I was told. My face became paler, my hair became longer and changed colour going from a very dark brown to an inky back, my lips turned blue and my eyes flashed scarlet and then obsidian and finally back to green. When the change was over I looked even closer at myself. My eyes were no longer emerald, they were a much more piercing dark forest green and my face looked skeletal and gaunt.

My soul was forced quite painfully back into the body of my ten year old self when the paramedic began to pump air into my lungs. Someone shouted something. The stench of chlorine filled my nose and I was unsure of whether I was in hospital or still at the pool. Blood and water poured out of my mouth when I sprang upwards and coughed. I looked around me at the sterile room. Hospital. I saw Drée standing beside me, her scythe held loosely in her hand. A doctor placed a hand on my shoulder. I flinched away.

"Could you sit up on the bed please, we just need to check you over." I sat down carefully. The doctor began checking me over. I just sat there. I was finally able to begin my training. I didn't know what to become, but Drée would probably make me a Death-Weaver like she is, although being a Grim-Reaper or a Fate-Weaver would be awesome! Fate-Weavers and Death-Weavers work closely together. A Fate-Weaver is assigned to a person when they are born (when the human is born) and then they stay with them until they are to die, pushing and prodding but never really interfering. That is when the Death-Weavers come out and play. The Death-Weaver then maps out the final year of that persons life, controlling it fully. I don't like the sound of that. Grim-Reapers actually take the life of the person about to die so I guess I was wrong. Grim-Reapers and Death-Weavers are closer partners than Fate-Weavers and Death-Weavers. Or I could be a Blood-Reaper. Blood-Reapers decide what genetics go into a child before a Fate-Weaver can even get there hands on the infant. Nah, Grim-Reaper or Death-Weaver. Drée looked at me. She was itching to know what I wanted to be so she could complete the change.

"What's your name, kid?" I opened my mouth to answer but Drée shook her head.

"Mortimer Weaver." The doctor raised an eyebrow but I wasn't looking at him. Behind him Drée was shaking with laughter. "You look fine, your lips are a little bit blue but that should clear up in about an hour. Your uncle is waiting in the waiting area, just across the hall." I quickly made my way to the aforementioned waiting room. A man dressed in black was stood scowling in the middle. He looked at me with a look of purest loathing, but I found myself unable to return the look. This man, this obviously stone hearted man, had a connection to me. And I wanted to know what it was. I looked at Drée. Her essence solidified next to me. Her scythe aflame; she advanced upon the poor man and swung the deadly blade in a graceful arc towards his neck. The point pierced the skin then halted.

"Harry, do you wish to know your connection to this man?" I nodded. "He is your father." I looked at the man. He shifted uncomfortably and then turned on his heel. He motioned for me to follow him. I did so.

We walked to the park not far away. He sat down on a bench, all the while watching Drée. I look at her. Her smile did not bode well. I sat beside him, staring up at the cloudless sky.

"I am your father, but I can't claim you. As much as I would love to certain people wouldn't allow me to. I can officially change your name, the muggle way and then all record of Harry Potter would be gone. You would continue to live with the Dursleys and continue your training with the Death-Weaver, but when you come to Hogwarts you would be my son. I will visit in a week, have a name by then."

When I looked around he was gone. I walked back home in silence. Not even talking to Drée. She slung her scythe across her back and ran to catch up with me. I rapped on the door to my 'home'. The door was answered by my aunt who let me in. She sent me straight to the cupboard and said I wouldn't be going to school for a few days.

**One Week Later**

"_Boy!" _I clambered out of the cupboard quickly and practically flew into the kitchen. Sat on a chair was my father. He gestured for me to sit. I did so and he looked at me closely.

"Have you thought of a name?" I nodded.

"Syran, I don't have a reason though, I just like it." He nodded.

"And a middle name?" I panicked. Then it hit me; the male version of Drée's name.

"Drew. What is my new surname?" He looked up and smiled.

"Snape, and before you ask… Severus." Man this guy was good! I laughed. "I will try and visit once a month however circumstance may forbid…"

"That's fine." He nodded and left.

**Ok that's it. **

**White Mercy- Nobody important just yet.**

**The sighing Fate-Weaver- was Harry/Syran's Fate-Weaver.**

**Dr****é****e- The Death-Weaver that decided to look after Harry/Syran. Pronounced Dray.**

**The scar- That's just me being exceptionally evil. Sorry. Imagine the stick of the scythe going down the left side of his face and the blade going around his right eye. **

**Weeper- A combination of Weaver and Reaper. Syran/Harry is a combination of Death Weaver and Grim Reaper. Basically, he controls them and kills them.**

**I think that's all that should be explained. I will answer questions in the next chapter. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok this chapter is set about one year after the events of the last chapter.**

Drée and I were sat together on the floor of the sitting room in number four Privet Drive. I was learning about runes and Runecraft. Uncle Vernon didn't like me learning about magic but I reminded time and again that I wasn't Harry Potter anymore and would have to know some things before I go into the wizarding world. Drée was visible most of the time now, seeing as I would look rather stupid talking to and punching thin air. I had a huge rune dictionary open on the floor beside me and I was writing out the runic alphabet. There was a knock at the door. Drée waltzed over and opened it. She led Severus into the room and pointed at the sofa. He set his suitcase down and watched me. I quickly finished what I was doing and looked at Drée. She shook her head and motioned for me to get Grim. I sighed and fetched my scythe and robes. I pulled the robe over my head and walked into the sitting room. We walked into the backyard.

I took a guard stance, the blade of my scythe angled towards the ground, the handle across my body. Drée struck, the handle of her scythe cuffed the back of my knee. I lunged forward, but she was gone. Cursing my luck I whipped around and ducked. Her scythe whistled eerily in my ear. I felt the cool metal on my cheek.

"Dead," she whispered. I stood, unmoving until the deadly blade was moved. I then hugged my father. We all walked back into the house.

"Aunt Petunia, Severus is here." She turned and nodded to him.

"Syran, I am going to take you to Diagon Alley today, so you can get your school supplies." I nodded eagerly. He pulled out a small bag of floo powder and handed it to me. I smirked.

"We have an electric fireplace, dad. We're going to have to go a different way." Severus stopped, cursing his stupidity. I laughed. I run up the stairs and changed into a set of ordinary robes, still black though. I then jumped over the banister and landed next to Severus with a muffled thump. He looked around and raised an eyebrow at the dramatic entrance but said nothing.

"Drée, either make yourself invisible or stay here." She threw her scythe down and folded her arms. Oh great; temper tantrum. "Or leave the scythe, stay visible and come." Her eyes brightened and then darkened.

"Nah, I'll stay here. This is kind of a father son bonding session. Have fun." I looked at her. I nodded. Severus walked out into the backyard and held out his hand. I took it and he twisted on the spot.

We appeared in an alleyway near the Leaky Cauldron. Severus led me over to the drab building. We entered and walked over to the bar. Tom, the toothless barkeeper grinned toothily at us.

"Hello Severus, who's the kid?" Severus smirked.

"This is my son, Syran. He is starting Hogwarts this year, I want to get his school supplies now and get it over with." Tom chuckled and waved us off. Severus led the way to Diagon Ally. He handed me a small pouch.

"Inside is some money, it is for you to buy your pet with. As a teacher I can officially look after any pet that is a bit… suspect." I nodded.

"Do I need to buy a wand? I can use an instrument that looks like a wand… but it is what I have been using for the past three months." He looked at me thoughtfully.

"Show me." I nodded and shook back the sleeve of my robe. On my left forearm was a sheath made of leather, holding a delicate rod made of black wood and decorated with red designs. I pulled my sleeve back over my arm. Severus continued on. "I think you can pass that for a wand. How many sets of robes do you have?"

"Just my Grim ones and this one so two." He nodded and made his way to Madam Malkins. I followed him quickly.

There was no-one in the shop so we stepped over to the counter. Severus rang the bell impatiently. The old witch appeared behind the counter and smiled at us.

"We need two sets of Hogwarts uniforms and two sets of casual robes please." She nodded.

"Any specific colours for the casual robes?" I looked around thoughtfully.

"One set of black and one dark green." She nodded and began fitting me. She finished up quickly and then shooed us away. I smiled at her.

We walked into the bookshop and I immediately wandered off. I picked up all of my first year books and then added some more to the pile. I had picked up a total of fifteen books when I was dragged to the counter by my father. He didn't look scornful, merely amused. The salesperson laughed good naturedly at us. He dragged me into the apothecary next and I was fascinated by nearly everything. Severus paid for my ingredients and then had to, once again, drag me into the next shop. We bought a good cauldron and some scales.

We were in the Magical Menagerie when I saw the perfect pet. I was looking in the glass tanks when I saw it. In the middle of the tank was a small, beautiful forest green serpent. I walked over to the counter. The witch behind it was eyeing me. Severus was also watching me.

"I would like the little green snake please." The witch raised an eyebrow.

"You can have it for free if you can get it out of the tank." I nodded and opened the hatch at the top. I cautiously put my arm in and hissed at it softly in parseltongue. I was far enough from the counter to not be heard by the witch. Severus, sensing my need for a distraction began talking to the witch. I made my way back to the counter. The witch was surprised to say the least. I handed over five galleons and then turned to my dad. He was smirking. I smiled back and exited the shop. Dad took me to a shop that sold trunks next and I found one similar to my Morte-Vöndre; black with red lightning bolts, proper ones not one that looked like my old scar but one that you see in the sky. Dad put everything into the trunk and then took me to one final shop in the muggle world.

Inside were shelves and shelves of books. He told me to pick out four. I went to the fantasy section and picked up _Lord of The Rings The Fellowship of The Ring, Castle of Wizardry, The Thrall and The Dragon's Heart _and_ The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe._

Severus nodded at my choice. We paid for them and then walked into the alleyway next to the shop.

We apparated back to the Dursley's house. Drée was sat cross legged under a tree. She had a cassette player next to her playing some classical and somewhat depressing piano music. She looked up and grinned at me. I am a bit worried now. She had been in a foul mood when we left.

Petunia scurried out into the garden and called us into the kitchen for dinner. Dudley and Vernon paled considerably when Severus walked in.

"So the vampire is here again." I scowled at him.

"My dad isn't a vampire, however much he insists on acting and dressing like one." Severus raised an eyebrow at me. "What?" I asked. He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like incorrigible.

**Okay,**

**Morte-Vöndre- Literal translation; death stick. It is a wand that can only be used by the dead.**

**And that's a wrap.**


	3. Chapter 3

When the last few months at my relatives had passed I was ecstatic!

The morning of my departure was utter chaos; Vernon was cursing and griping, Dudley was jumping around jovially and Drée was stood watching it all, being Grim.

I stared at the Morte-Vöndre is my hands, trying to think of a place to put it. Finally I thought of something. I pulled a rubber band out of my desk drawer and then dragged my hair into a loose ponytail. I stuck the Morte-Vöndre through it and smiled. It was an innocuous method of styling my hair that concealed a potentially dangerous weapon.

I picked up my trunk and dragged it downstairs and waited for Uncle Vernon to finish saying his goodbyes. He stomped out to the car. He gave a startled yelp because Drée was already sitting in the back and he hadn't even realised. I heaved my trunk into the boot and then pulled my scythe off. I debated; did I actually need it at Hogwarts? No, no I didn't. I put it in the boot. If I'm going to scare them stupid I might as well do it properly.

I sat in the back of the car with Drée. She was reading a book, trying to ignore Vernon's griping.

All the way to King's Cross Station Uncle Vernon was grumbling. I had followed Drée's lead long ago and began reading a book.

Upon arrival Vernon promptly dumped all of my things on the pavement and sped off. Bastard. I strapped the scythe to my back before I got arrested and made it invisible with a flick of my wrist. I dragged the heavy trunk across the road and into the station. I saw a family of red-heads complaining about muggles. Muggles? Right, probably some posh-snot pure-blood family that don't give a damn about who hears them. I made my way over to the barrier between platforms nine and ten. I leaned casually against it and slid through to platform nine ¾. The scarlet steam engine gleamed in the meagre sunlight.

I heaved my heavy trunk towards the end of the train. I really didn't want any company. We found a compartment and put a spell over the door so that we would know if someone was going to come in. I sat down, next to the window, watching as the platform began to fill up with people. Drée sat idly in the corner, dragging the point of a steel stiletto across her arm. She often did this, carving intricate patterns into the back of her arm.

The train began moving at 11 o'clock sharp. On the initial lurch Drée's dagger slipped slicing a deep incision into her arm, ruining the delicate rose she had been carving. Although I didn't approve of her doing this I had to admit the designs looked good. Drée hissed and clamped her hand over the free-flowing wound. I chucked a bandage at her and she nodded appreciatively. I suddenly felt queasy, someone was going to enter the compartment.

As predicted the compartment door slid open seconds after our little warning. The gangly lad in the doorway stared. Instinctually I had leapt up, my scythe in a guard stance. Drée, I am sure, was pointing the bloodied dagger at the poor boy. He gulped and visibly quivered. I turned away from him, deciding he wasn't a threat. Drée tucked the dagger into the side of her boot and began to bandage the profusely bleeding wound. I slung the scythe into her corner and pulled my hood down. The boy's breath hitched when he took in my scar. I pulled him into the compartment and shut the door. I muttered a quick locking spell and then looked at the red-head.

"Who are you, what do you want and just ask the damn question."

"Ronald Weasley, I'm looking for someone and how in the name of Merlin's most saggy y-fronts did you get the scar?" I laughed, it was a bitter laugh a cruel one. He jumped slightly.

"It used to be something else but the girl in the corner changed it for me. I'm Syran, thanks for asking. Who are you looking for, I may be able to help?"

"I'm actually looking for Harry Potter but nobody has seen anything." I smirked, so the wizarding world still assumed I was alive and well. I was well, alive I was not. The blue tint of my lips hadn't faded nor had I expected it to.

"Uh, I hate to be the one to break this to you but I lived in his neighbourhood, he's dead. He died just over a year ago."

"What, how?" I bit my lip.

"His cousin held Harry's head underwater in a swimming lesson." Ron looked dumbfounded, unbelieving almost. I hated the fact that he was actually talking to me yet could never know. Weasley looked like he was about to say something so I focused my attention on him.

"So, who's that in the corner?" He asked. I smirked at him.

"That would be Drée Weaver." He nodded. I pulled the Morte-Vöndre from my hair and began to idly incant spells. I rummaged through it until I found my slightly worn pair of fingerless gauntlets. They were black with a lightning bolt on the backs. Sitting back down I inspected them closely and then slipped them onto my hands. They were made from a thick material.

"Canvas, with black silk sewn onto them." said Drée helpfully. I thanked her politely.

--

Shortly putting on my gloves I had fallen asleep seeing because Drée had kept me up for a good portion of the night. I suddenly jumped up, feeling exceptionally nauseous. I cancelled the charm on the door, the effort of them trying to get in making me more ill by the millisecond. A blonde boy stumbled in, trying to look like he wasn't trying to break into a locked room. I smirked at him.

"You know, the resemblance between my godfather and yourself is astonishing. Are you two related?" He asked.

"I'm ever so sorry, you are going to have to be more specific. Who is your godfather?"

"Severus Snape. Hold on a minute…you're his son aren't you! Blimey, he told me you had a scar but…"

"You thought it would be something a little less… macabre?" He nodded slightly. I laughed darkly. "Do sit down." I heard the compartment door slide open. To be honest I really couldn't be bothered to move, even as a reflex. I turned languidly to the figure in the door.

A bushy brown-haired girl stood there, a dumbstruck expression on her face, her eyes had a glassy, unseeing look. She shook herself slightly.

"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."

"Unfortunately I have not seen a toad and if I do I shall return it to him." The girl entered the compartment carefully.

"So who're you?"

"Syran Snape, Ronald Weasley, Draco Malfoy and Drée Weaver."

"I never told you my name."

"Dad has mentioned you a few times. So who are you?" I asked turning to the newcomer. She sat down stiffly next to Drée.

"I'm Hermione Granger. Are you a part of some sort of cult?" She asked apprehensively. I thought about it for a few minutes.

"I wouldn't call it a cult per say. If you were talking about the scars I was born with them. If you are asking about the… equipment, I'm not at a liberty to say." She nodded slightly.

"So, can any of you cast any spells yet? I've only tried a few simple ones but they've all worked for me." I grinned at the statement.

"Yes, I've been learning for nearly a year now. Most of them are ritualistic spells though." Hermione stared at me blankly, as did Ronald. I sighed. "Ritualistic magic is when a spell has to have certain elements before it can be performed. For example; a long forgotten resurrection spell that requires a portion of the deceased's soul to be of any use also requires; a bone from an unloving father, the flesh of a faithful servant and the blood of your most hated foe preferably the one that killed you. It is pretty specific and on top of that you need a complex potion and a good knowledge of the Shadow Realm. I could show you a ritual if you wished…" I trailed off. She bit her lip and nodded.

"There is probably a ritual that would sort out your hair; turning it from a frizzy mess to a mass of elegant curls. How does that sound?"

"Almost too good to be true." I looked through my Codex and found what I was looking for. Luckily it only required a lock of hair and a few runes. I asked if I could cut a lock of hair. Hermione nodded and Drée handed me her dagger once again and I cut a small lock from Hermione's thick hair. I tied it using some long piece of thread that looked like a spider's strand of silk and then drew two runes on the back of my hand. I felt my hand grow warm as the spell began to work. I handed it to Hermione

"Whenever you wear this your hair will be more manageable." She unclasped it and re-clasped it around her neck.

We sat together and chattered amicably for the rest of the journey.


End file.
